Finest Care in Middle Earth
by We Didn't Start the Fire
Summary: What if the 4077 were to operate on the casualties of the War of the Third Age?  In this fic, we do a really bad of answering that question, but read it anyway.


**A/N: There are no words to explain the absurdity of this fic. It starts out somewhat logical, but it gets weirder and weirder up to the point where we gave up. Uh...enjoy?**

K'ahiliala's violet hair streamed behind her, her gold eyes wide in terror, and her ruby lips opened wide in a scream.

8 seconds later

The Hawaiian-Elf-Dwarf-Wood Elf-Hobbit-Half Elf-Human-Mirkwood Elf-New Yorker-Halfling-Centaur-Rohirrim-Mermaid-Elf-Entwife-Valar-Quarter Elf hit the ground with a thud. She was dead. Why? Because not even a Mary Sue can survive a 1,000 foot fall into Middle Earth.

Back at the MASH

"I can't operate on this," scoffed Frank Burns.

"What's the matter Frank?" asked Hawkeye, "more suction," he interrupted himself, turning to the nurse, "Can't operate on a orc? I'll come look. Margaret, close for me."

Hawkeye crossed the room to Frank's table. After taking one look, he silently pulled the sheet over the person's head.

"But Doctor!" exclaimed Nurse Kelly. "I'm still getting a pulse!"

"I know," replied Hawkeye quietly. "But even I can't operate on a Mary Sue."

"See? It wasn't an orc!" said Frank snidely. "Although, I wouldn't operate on the Other Side's soldiers if you put a gun to my head."

"And I just might do that, Frank, if you don't get this repulsive thing out of here," threatened Hawkeye.

"ME?!!" whined Frank. "Why me?"

"Because," explained Hawkeye, "If she'd have lived, she would have been intended for me."

"Doctor, how can you tell?" asked Random Nurse #9.

A dreamy look crossed Hawkeye's face. "Green hair, violet eyes – she's my ideal woman. But she's a Mary Sue. You can't win it all."

"Shut yer yaps!" commanded Colonel Sherman Potter.

"But, sir, we're out of wounded!" Frank pointed out.

"Yeah, but Grandpa here is taking his time closing," Hawkeye said, jabbing his thumb toward Potter.

"One more crack like that and they'll build a monument over you," retorted Potter. "I'm pretty well engaged here," he said, referring to his work.

"Was that a reference to me and Faramir?" said Major Margaret Houlihan indignantly. By now finished closing, she put her gloved fists unsterilely on her hips.

"And what I wouldn't give to be in his place," Hawkeye said, again lapsing into thoughtfulness.

"Excuse me!" cried Margaret.

"What? And here I didn't even say anything dirty!" said Hawkeye, feigning innocence. "Although I could, Margaret," he said suavely with a sly look. "Believe me, I could give you all the reason in the world to throw that scalpel there at me, or maybe to throw yourself at me," he continued, "you never know..."

"If I were you, I wouldn't give me any ideas about scalpels and you right now," said Margaret, glaring.

"Slow down there, Major," interjected BJ, "I hear the Pronoun Police pulling up right now."

"Really!" said Margaret, whipping off her mask and storming out of the Operating Room.

Hawk and Beej followed suit, but without the whipping and the storming. The un-scrubbed in the thingy-room. Which sounds kind of kinky, but it's really not. Just as they were "changing into something more comfortable" (heh, heh), the loudspeaker spoke loudly. "Attention, all personnel. Incoming wounded. All personnel report to duty."

Hawk and BJ looked at each other. (No, not romantically.) "So much for that martini," Hawk said.

"We never mentioned any martini," pointed out BJ.

"Ah, but you were thinking of one, weren't you?" Hawkeye said with a knowing smile as he began to rescrub.

"Got me again, Dr. Sydney; Mind Reader," replied BJ, following suit.

"Did I hear my name?" asked Sydney, swishing his cape as he walked into the room dramatically.

"Sydney!" cried Klinger, on his way to take two bottles of blood to the OR. "How bout that Section 8?"

"Ah, but you see, that is now what I am trying for! You see, an elf by the name of Galadriel has usurped my job. Something about better ability to 'read people.' And now, I vant to suck your blud!"

"Sorry, Doc, but I tried that once," Klinger pointed out. "You wouldn't let me out of the army, remember?"

"Ah, but you haven't tried this!" cried Sydney, grabbing one of the bottles from Klinger, uncapping it, taking a sip, and then gagging, "I don't recommend trying that," said Sydney, trying not to throw up.

"Watch it," said Klinger, grabbing the bottle back from Sydney and recapping it, "we only have a limited supply of elf blood."

"We have ELVES?" cried BJ in shock.

"C'mon fellows, let's move it," said Potter, who had rescrubbed without anyone noticing and was now pushing his way backward through the double doors that led to OR.

Klinger went through the door next, headed for the refrigerator in OR.

"Wait a minute!" cried H. "You're not just going to pretend nothing ever happened to that bottle of blood, are you?"

"Sure, why not?" shrugged Klinger.

"Because it's contaminated!" explained Hawkeye. "If we give that to a wounded elf, he could die! Either that or turn into a psychologist. I'm not really sure which is worse."

As everyone else exited the room, Sydney slowly began to realize no one was paying attention to him, but, nonetheless exited as dramatically as he had entered, with another swish of his cape.

In the Operating Room

Frank had never unscrubbed. "It's an Elf!" he exclaimed, once he saw his patient.

"How could you tell?" asked Hawkeye sarcastically,"The pointed ears? The curly-tipped shoes?"

"I do not believe that I am wearing shoes with curly tips," pointed out the elf, who apparently spoke English because it was the same thing as Common **[A/N: We are aware that Common Tongue isn't actually English, it's just easier this way.** He seemed angry in an elf-like way.

"So much for human-elf relations," quipped BJ.

"Okay, I'm just going to put you out now," said Nurse Acting as the Anesthesiologist, bringing the mask over the elf's face.

"No, I'd rather not be put out," said the elf calmly, grasping the Nurse Acting as the Anesthesiologist's arm with a grip that was surprisingly strong for his slenderness.

"Yes, we hate it when people feel put-out here at the 4077," said Hawk, "but nonetheless, if we're going to operate on you, we'll need you unconscious. For some reason, we get upset when people squirm around while we're trying to operate on them."

"Very well then, put me under," said the elf, and the Nurse Acting as the Anesthesiologist complied.

Through the next five hours, they continued to receive wounded elves, and nearly exhausted their supply of elf blood.

"How'd you do on that bleeder, Pierce?" Colonel Potter asked as they were de-scrubbing.

"I don't know if he'll pull through, but I did what I could," replied Hawkeye.

"Well, time will tell," said Potter as he left. He had been the first to finish de-scrubbing.

Pierce and BJ headed out when they were finished anti-scrubbing, and went to the mess tent. There, they saw an unfamiliar face. This was uncommon at the 4077, but nonetheless, after they had gotten their food (if you could call it that), they sat down next to the stranger.

"Hey," BJ greeted the stranger, who, upon closer inspection, was an elf. (BJ could tell by the curly-tipped shoes.)

"Hello," replied the Elf, "I am Haldir, and I am the commander of wounded the elves you have received today."

"Nice to meet you. The name's Pierce. Call me Hawkeye," said BJ. Because either the authors made a mistake, or BJ was practical-joking the elf.

"And I'm Hunicutt. Call me BJ," said Hawkeye. See above.

"Very pleased to meet you, Hawkeye and BJ," the elf responded solemnly and/or somberly.

"BWAHAHA!" said Bobette, "I'm TRYING to scare you with my Spanish radio!"

Then we returned to the story.

"Actually, he's Pierce and I'm Hawkeye," confessed BJ in an effort to further confuse Haldir and/or the reader.

"Fear not," said the elf in an elf-like fashion. "I have been properly informed of your names by a reliable source."

"Aw, that takes away all the fun," said BJ in mock-disappointment.

Just then, Frank approached and said nastily, "Just who do you think you jokers are, sitting with an important man like – what's your name, Sir?" he finished, turning to Haldir.

"My name is Haldir, and I am an elf, not a man," he said, pointing to his ears in a most un-elf-like manner. Frank could also have realized Haldir's elf-ness from his curly-tipped shoes. Yes, the authors do plan on recycling that joke until the reader is absolutely sick of it.

"And Frank, we were just sitting here, minding Haldir's own business," Hawkeye pointed out with less wit than the authors intended.

"Yeah," added BJ for no apparent reason.

"Well, go mind it elsewhere," said Ferret-Face.

"Shall we?" Beej asked HE, standing and grasping his tray.

"Sit down, Beej," said Hawk.

"Hrmphnshg," snorted Frank. Then THE STUPID SCENE ENDED.

Nearby, in a galaxy far, far away...

K'ahiliala woke from her unconscious state. She had come back to life shortly before being taken to the OR. Why? Because Mary-Sues can do any ol' thing they feel like, regardless of logic and plausibility. She was lying down in a military hearse, or whatever you call the vehicles they use to transport dead people. Apparently, she had been mistaken for dead. She had been dead, but she wasn't at the point when they put her in the hearse. Because that was after HE had pulled the sheet over her head. Is this story confusing enough yet to be a Mary-Sue fic?

Stuff happens time passes.

The End.


End file.
